One Night That Changed Them All
by Bex221B
Summary: Renamed from "Finding Courage Within". Sherlock and Joan's friendship has moved into unfamiliar territory. What happens when one night changes everything...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **A/N: I wrote this a while ago and decided to post it. It's my first chapter story. I'll try to get the second chapter up by next week.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Elementary or the characters.**

 **Please Review!**

It was a bad idea. He knew it was a bad idea. Most people say you can't keep your feelings secret forever- and although he didn't usually believe things the simple minded public thought- Sherlock couldn't disagree with this true statement.

From what he knew, it had started 2 years ago, when he'd found out that Watson was thinking about leaving the Brownstone and moving out. They'd fallen into a happy rhythm by then and he didn't want it to change. He didn't like change. Only when he thought about it more deeply did he realise the real reason why he was feeling nothing but dread about her leaving him; he had romantic feelings for his partner.

Although he tried to show to the world a calm exterior, the famous Sherlock Holmes was never truly calm. There was always something going round his head, something to think about. His mind worked 24/7; even in his sleep his brain spewed thoughts and ideas (mostly about work). So, he did the only rational thing he could think of: run away from his problems and move back to London. Though, come to think of it, that wasn't rational at all.

Kitty had been a distraction, a distorted replacement for Watson. Nevertheless, whenever his mind wasn't consumed by cases or experiments, it always went back to Joan. How he missed the way her face would light up when she was happy. How much he missed her staying up all night with him to work a case. Or even how she would get angry with him for whatever crude comment he had said or careless act he had done. It was all too much for him. If he felt this way, it was too torturous to be away from her, he had to go back to New York, even if that meant hiding it from her when he was there.

Once they got back, he recognised what a decision he had made. He would have to be around someone he loved and knew didn't love him back and she was completely off limits. That would be his punishment for all his past misdeeds. After a while- and after Kitty left- and Joan moved back in, Sherlock was able to bear the torment of not acting on his feelings. He fell back into the happy rhythm with her and eventually moved on to Fiona. It wasn't a perfect solution, however, as his love for Watson never fully dissipated. When it came to an end, he was upset, not so much for the dissolving of his relationship, but for the realisation that there was no longer a barrier between him and his housemate, no restraints or distractions. That is what led to this mistake…

XXXXXXXXXX

It was a bad idea. She knew it was a bad idea. Although Joan was oblivious to her partner's feelings towards her, she had her own feelings to hide, though they were discovered much later than Sherlock's. It was only when he began dating Fiona that the former surgeon picked up on her love for the consulting detective. It took an opportunity of jealousy to allow her emotional state to reveal itself. When she learnt of their relationship, it had come on like an avalanche. She loved him, but she didn't want it to change their friendship or their work.

Nonetheless, it did have some effect on both those particulars. In each case, she avoided him like the plague and- with his concentration on burying his feelings- even the great Sherlock Holmes didn't notice. She attempted to carry on as normal but after a long 2 months of inconvenience, Joan finally acknowledged that she would never see her friend in the same light again. In her case, that is what led to this mistake…


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Chapter two is here! Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favourited and reviewed!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Elementary. This is purely for entertainment purposes.**

 **Please Review!**

 **Chapter 2**

It was a warm spring day in May and whilst Joan was endeavouring to have a good time on a night out with her friends, Sherlock was in the middle of a trying break-up.

 **Sherlock**

It had begun with an unexpected visit from his girlfriend at around 3 o'clock on a Saturday afternoon and had ended with her terminating the relationship and leaving in tears at 9 o'clock that evening. Subsequent to his now former paramour's departure, Sherlock- without thinking- did the first thing that felt natural; he called Watson.

 **Joan**

At 7 o'clock Joan had left the Brownstone, not really looking forward to a night out when she didn't feel like leaving the comforts of her room. She hadn't seen her roommate since that morning and assumed he was either out on a case or doing some sort of peculiar experiment. Nevertheless, she shouted a goodbye, whether anyone was there to listen or not and started the short walk to the Italian restaurant 2 blocks away. The sun was only just beginning to lower in the sky and, despite her practically permanent emotional indecision, she couldn't help but admire the beautiful New York atmosphere. She arrived at the restaurant, her feelings from earlier resurfacing, and made her way reluctantly to the table where she could see Emily was already sitting with her boyfriend, waiting for the others.

When the entire party had arrived, they ordered and Joan requested what would have been a delicious meal, had she not been only thinking about the man she couldn't have. Just as they were looking at the dessert menus, Joan was surprised to receive a phone call from the one person she was worrying over.

"Sherlock, I told you I was going to be out tonight."

"Watson, I know you said to let you get on with a night out for once—"

"But…"

"But, I need you to come back to the Brownstone."

"Can it wait? This is my first night away in weeks!"

"No. Please come back now."

She could hear the desperation in his voice so agreed and said she'd be there in half an hour. Joan made her excuses and apologies and paid her part of the cheque before heading back home.

XXXXXXXXXX

Upon arriving, Joan knew something wasn't right. There was no natural light anyway- due to the time of day- but at each room she encountered, the light was off. This is what Sherlock did when he had emotional turmoil. Eventually, she found the despaired academic in the blackened media room, staring at 7 blank screens.

"What is so urgent that I needed to come right away, Sherlock?" Joan asked as she entered the room, avoiding switching the lights on as she knew her partner had set the house in a certain way because of his mood.

Silence was her response.

"SHERLOCK! You called me over here then don't talk to me, what is the matter?"

Without turning to her, Sherlock finally answered plainly, "Fiona ended our relationship."

Joan's anger immediately evolved to sympathy and slight guilt. Although she, to her knowledge, had no involvement in the break-up, the ex-sober companion had secretly wished for the relationship to not work out; though she knew not what she would do if it did. His friend moved to console him, yet Sherlock still sat, unmoving.

"And the worst part of it is," he began; "now there's nothing holding me back."

Before Joan could ponder the meaning of his words, Sherlock captured her lips with a passionate kiss…

XXXXXXXXXX

Joan was caught off guard with this sudden display of affection. Soon, however, she leant into the kiss, her slightly inebriated mind blocking out all thought, save the man in front of her. Suddenly, Sherlock pulled away, looking into Joan's eyes to anticipate her response. What he saw there was only lust, so he decided: If this was his only chance at sleeping with the woman of his dreams (since Irene), then he would take it!

He pulled Watson back in and greeted her lips with his, tongues duelling and teeth clashing as they tried to explore every bit of each other's mouths. The kiss quickly escalated to hand exploration as well as tongue, Sherlock's hands moving slowly up her top, where Joan's slid over the plains of his muscular chest.

"Wait," Sherlock said, as he began to doubt his- seemingly willing- partner's intentions once again. Joan whimpered at the loss of contact and breaking of such a powerful kiss. "Are you sure?" he asked. His only response was Joan gripping his shoulders and catching his lips again.

* * *

 **A/N: Oooooooooooooo! The next chapter should be up within the next two weeks (Sorry, I've got start of term exams and a ton of homework!) Thank you to you all and I'd love to hear your reviews!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I've been so busy with school and my book; I'm sorry for posting late.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Elementary, this is for entertainment purposes only.**

 **Please review!**

* * *

It was still dark when he awoke, his head pounding and trying to remember why he wasn't in his room. It wasn't uncommon for him to either not sleep, or fall asleep in the study or lounge if he was working a case or performing an experiment, but he was in a bed this time. A bed that wasn't his. Then, abruptly, the memories came flooding back. He had slept with Joan. He and Joan. Joan and him. Slept together. He cursed silently. _How could I have done this? I've ruined our friendship forever. This should never have happened!_

He looked to his left, his eyes falling upon the sleeping figure of his partner, turned away from him; her chest steadily rising and falling in sleeping breaths. Slowly and carefully, so as not to wake Joan, he slid out of the bed, collecting his discarded clothes on the way and retreating to his own room.

Collapsing on his bed, he retrieved his phone from his trouser pocket and checked the time- 06:27. That seemed late enough to get up; God knows, he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep again. He dressed quickly, not bothering with a shower, when a notification pinged in on his phone. It was a voicemail from Fiona. He took a shaky breath and rang the voicemail number.

" _Hello, Sherlock. I know that we're no longer together and it seems odd for me to be calling you, especially since I broke up with you, but I have some things of yours that need to be returned to you, so come round this morning at 8 o'clock to pick them up."_

XXXXXXXXXX

Sunlight streamed in through the open curtains. _Why hadn't she closed the curtains?_ She never left the curtains open before she went to sleep. Then the memories from last night hit her. _Oh my god, I slept with Sherlock!_

Joan's eyes flew open and she turned her head to look at the bed next to her. It was empty, the sheets obviously slept in, but absent of the sleeper. Thank God. She didn't have to face him this morning. _Last night was a mistake. It never should have happened._ She cast her slightly hungover mind back. He had initiated it, but she wasn't absolved of blame completely. She should never have let this happen!

Sighing, she pulled herself out of bed and dressed for the day, hopeful that she wouldn't have to see her partner any time soon.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sherlock pressed the buzzer once… twice… three times, rocking onto the balls of his feet and back to his heels; waiting agitatedly for Fiona to answer. He was more than a few minutes earlier than she had said, but he couldn't wait any longer. He had spent just over an hour walking through New York, going nowhere in particular- just walking.

After what felt like an eternity, the door was released and- without wasting any time- Sherlock opened it, strode in and took the stairs three at a time to get to Fiona's place. Five floors later, and he was there, ringing the doorbell and once again waiting nervously for an answer.

When Fiona opened the door, she looked furious. "You're early by," she checked her watch, "twenty-two minutes. You know how much I hate being off-schedule. Since you're here, I'll give you your things now and we can both be done with this quickly."

She handed him a small paper bag with the few items he'd come to collect. "I'm sorry, I forgot to check whether you had left anything at the Brownstone," Sherlock mumbled, slightly embarrassed at his lack of thought.

"You needn't. I never left anything of mine at yours, I made sure of it. Hopefully, we never have to see each other again after this. Goodbye, Sherlock." With that, she slammed the door shut, ending their interaction and their relationship for good.

It still being early, Sherlock headed straight for the precinct (not wanting to return to the Brownstone quite yet), needing a case to distract him enough so he didn't have to think about his partner waiting at home.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope to get the next chapter up by Halloween at the latest. Reviews keep me writing!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: SORRY! I missed my deadline again. There are no excuses. Well, here's the new chapter anyway... I hope to have the next one up soon, but I couldn't predict when. :-P**

 **Disclaimer: I definitely don't own Elementary- unfortunately- and this is for entertainment purposes only.**

 **PLEEEEEEEEEASE review! Pretty please... with cherries on top?**

* * *

With Detective Bell on vacation for two weeks, there was another detective filling in as Sherlock and Joan's NYPD liaison officer and partner. It was a spineless, idiotic man named Detective Herrley. Sherlock was baffled as to how this moron ever made detective, being unable to bag evidence correctly, talk to witnesses, or know how to put up with his Sherlockisms. But mostly the last one.

Being in an already agitated and nervous state, what with the incidents with both Joan and Fiona, Sherlock knew he was making things extra difficult for the cop; but frankly, he didn't care. His mind was too preoccupied thinking about facing Joan: he would have to eventually. He was so distracted, he failed to notice Captain Gregson's curious and sympathetic glances; therefore failing to foresee- and prepare for- what his friend would talk to him about.

"Sherlock," Gregson called from across the room, "come to my office for a second, will you?" Sherlock followed the Captain into his office without a word, his mind far away from his body. "So, Sherlock, I heard about your break-up…"

Sherlock's consciousness slammed back into him. He held his breath, waiting for his friend to talk to him about last night's encounter with Watson- expecting it was her from whom he had heard the news about the termination of his and Fiona's relationship, and therefore the subsequent sleeping with his partner.

"Well, I know break-ups can be difficult, especially considering the fact that this was only your second proper relationship. I just wanted you to know that I'm here if you wanted to talk at all, and for anything you need."

"Is that all you wanted to tell me?" Sherlock asked, anticipating a "No, also you're a son of a bitch for sleeping with, and then abandoning Joan" in response.

"Yeah, I think so," Sherlock let out a sigh of relief. "Was there anything else you were expecting?"

Standing- ready to leave this conversation as soon as possible- the consulting detective quickly said, "No, no. I… I just… it doesn't matter. Just out of curiosity, how did you find out that Fiona and I had broken up?"

"Joan called earlier this morning. She said that you might be having a hard time. Oh, also, she asked me you give you a message for her," Thomas picked up a yellow post-it note from his desk and, bringing his glasses up to his eyes, read aloud, "She said, 'she'd meet you for lunch, 1 o'clock, at Gino's to talk about an issue with the kitchen cleaning schedule'. That's all."

"Ok, thank you," Sherlock responded, practically running out of the door. The lunch meeting definitely wasn't about the kitchen, and he was nervous as to what Joan would have to say to him. Would she yell at him for taking advantage of her? Or slap him in the face and tell him she was moving out? Or maybe she really did want to talk about the kitchen cleaning schedule and he was just over-thinking things? No, that couldn't be it. She was most definitely going to be angry with him. Best case scenario: she shouts at him and suggests they forget it ever happened. Worst case scenario: she leaves him and moves out.

That was what he wanted least in the world- along with Irene returning. He didn't care if she broke every bone in his body, or poured a glass of wine over his head; he just dreaded being alone again and wouldn't know how to cope without his roommate.

Xxxxxxxxxx

After Joan had showered, dressed, and eaten breakfast, she deliberated calling Captain Gregson to tell him about Sherlock and Fiona. She thought she'd better, considering Sherlock's hatred of emotional conversation. Knowing him, he wouldn't tell Thomas unless the subject was prompted by the man.

Inferring that her housemate would be in a state of emotional upheaval after the events of the previous day, she decided not to tell the captain about her and Sherlock's _incident_ last night, instead leaving a message for the detective to meet her for lunch to discuss the issue.

Of course, they would have to talk about it sometime, and she'd rather get it over and done with quickly so things could go back to normal as soon as possible.

If only they would…

* * *

 **A/N: Well, we're 4 chapters in. What are your thoughts? Any requests for where I should take this?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Again, I apologise profusely for my inability to upload chapters in a normal amount of time! You all must be so angry at me, but I'm really sorry. I've just been really busy over Christmas and with mock exams, my ridiculous procrastination and a bad case of writer's block, it's taken me ages to actually get round to writing this chapter. But, it's done now... I apologise in advance for most likely taking forever to upload the next one too ;-P.**

 **Also, I just want to thank everyone who has followed, favourited, reviewed and read. It makes me so happy to see y'all enjoying what I write!**

 **By the way, the crazy** **reviews left by "UR BESTIE" and "DAAAAAAAAAARLING" were my friend Amelie being weird when she found my fanfiction (Hi, if you're reading this, you odd piece of cheese ;-P )**

 **Anyway, here it is: the long-awaited chapter that took me stupidly ages to write...**

 **Disclaimer: (Do we really need to do this every time?) I definitely don't own elementary or any of the characters... blah... blah... blah.**

 **Please review!**

* * *

Although midday-what would usually be a fairly busy time- the restaurant was quite devoid of people; much to the dismay of Joan, who had hoped for the café to be at least half full to lessen the feeling that her and Sherlock were alone, as neither wanted that, due to the present situation.

Watson had arrived at Gino's twenty minutes early on purpose so she'd have time to rehearse what she was going to say. Why was she so anxious? It was just Sherlock! Someone that she had known and lived with for years! Nevertheless, she remained a nervous wreck during the full twenty minutes until her partner arrived; perfectly on time, of course.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Sherlock had avoided this for as long as possible. He could no longer ignore the issue- not when Joan clearly wanted to discuss what had happened (God knows why). In his opinion, they should just forget that it had ever taken place, and move on, continuing as normal: or as normal as could be achieved under the circumstances. Though, Watson would never agree to such terms; it just wasn't in her nature. She liked to _talk_ about things and solve problems _maturely_ like adults… _ugh!_ Why did they have to act like _adults_ all the goddamn time?! Couldn't they just be counterproductive and immature; dismiss the incident completely? Deny that it anything ever transpired? Of course, he would follow whatever Joan wanted to do, as she was his friend and partner, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

At exactly one o'clock, on the dot, Sherlock strode through the door of the café, a few leaves following him in due to the strong breeze: projecting the dramatic in such a way that- in Joan's already-on-edge state- sent shivers up her spine. Sherlock's keen eyes scanned the dining area, and upon seeing his partner, marched over to the table she occupied. Although he conveyed his ever-present, confident demeanour, his eyes betrayed the trepidation that he felt.

They exchanged quick, distracted greetings, before Sherlock took a seat opposite Joan. Neither, it seemed, wanted to speak first, so they sat in silence for a minute or so. Finally, Joan plucked up the courage to start a conversation.

"Sherlock," she began. "We're both aware of what happened last night,"

Sherlock tipped his head forward a little, to show his confirmation of the statement.

"Well," Sherlock braced himself, waiting for her to yell, or slap him, or tell him that she was going to move out and leave him. "I think that we should forget anything ever happened and carry on as we did before."

Sherlock was flabbergasted. He hadn't expected that. The Englishman was silent for a while, mouth agape: replaying it in his mind and wondering if he'd heard her correctly; whether she'd said what he thought she'd said.

Xxxxxxxxxx

From the moment Joan awoke that morning and realised what had occurred the night before, she knew what she wanted to do: knowing Sherlock, it would be how he wanted to handle the situation as well. It was best to just forget about the incident and move on, pretending nothing was different. It was all she could think to do. Hopefully, they would eventually get back to their usual routines and friendship like before- although she didn't know how long that would take. Nonetheless, that was what she was going to propose to Sherlock when they met for lunch that afternoon.

Xxxxxxxxxx

The silence that followed her suggestion felt deafening. She was waiting for Sherlock to disagree with her, or freak out and go back to England again. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

"Um… yes… uhh… good idea, Watson. That sounds like a suitable course of action. Umm… I'll see you at the Brownstone this evening?"

"O…ok, yeah," she responded, relieved and concerned at the same time; she had never heard Sherlock stammer before.

He rose from his seat, mumbled a goodbye, and practically sprinted out of the restaurant, almost knocking over his chair in his haste to leave.

Joan sighed. She had a feeling that forgetting everything that happened would be easier said than done…

* * *

 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed it and thanks again to anyone who reads, reviews, follows and favourites! I aim to write the next one... sometime before April? Who knows?**

 **Also, I just wanted to reassure people: I have no intention of abandoning this story. I may take forever and a day to update, but I'll never stop writing completely. I hate it when authors stop in the middle of the story, so be sure that I would never!**

 **I love you all so much for reading!** **Bye for now xxxxxxxxxxxxxx**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hihihi! Next instalment is here and it didn't take me _that_ long to post :-P. I'm so looking forward to the new season coming in April! I'll try to time my next chapter so it's like a celebration of the new episode.**

 **Disclaimer: Does it look like I own elementary? NOOOOOOOPE! I wish! :-P**

 **Please review? I'll be your best friend! 3**

* * *

It had been four long weeks since the _incident_ , and things had been as awkward and odd as could be imagined. They had avoided each other like the plague and exchanged only stilted greetings in the hallway. Joan had made the decision to stay on her own cases with private clients and let Sherlock handle the NYPD ones; in order to see one another as little as possible. Everything had been going well with their plan to carry on and forget about the _occurrence…_ until now.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Two pink lines.

The test in stared at her as she clutched it tightly in her shaking hands.

 _Two pink lines_.

Joan knew what that meant, and she could hardly bear to think about it… she was pregnant… with Sherlock Holmes' baby. _NO NO NO! This couldn't be happening! She can't be pregnant! This would mess everything up!_

She didn't know what she was going to do. She couldn't tell Sherlock! Lord knows how he'd react! Her brain was going into overdrive, imagining all the possible scenarios.

"Ok. Ok," she said to herself. "It's fine. It'll be fine. I'll just not tell him. Yeah! It's fine!"

Her bottom lip trembled and her vision became blurry as she wrapped her arms around her abdomen and slid onto the cold bathroom floor. Joan squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head; as if trying to shake the memories of the past few weeks from her mind.

Why did this have to happen? Why now? Why with _Sherlock_? One thing was for sure though: she was keeping the baby. During her time as a resident, she had seen women making the difficult decision whether or not to keep their child, but she could never see herself getting an abortion. No. She would keep the baby and everything would be alright. Even if she lost Sherlock, at least she would still have her son or daughter. The thought of that brought a smile to her face. She imagined holding the babe in her arms and rocking it to sleep; of its first words; first learning to walk. Maybe it wouldn't be all bad… being a mom.

After becoming a detective permanently, she had dismissed the idea of ever having children: her lifestyle didn't permit it, but deep down, Joan liked the idea of being a mother. Of having a mini human to take care of who loved her unconditionally and brought some colour into her life.

In contrast, she couldn't imagine Sherlock ever wanting kids. It was an almost laughable idea. There was no doubt in her mind that the consulting detective had no dream of being a father; no picture of a happy, nuclear family with two children, a dog and a house in the suburbs.

Still, she would have to tell him at some point; but she'd rather put it off for as long as possible then face it now. That was probably best, considering how hormonal and on edge she was. Whilst Joan dreaded the conversation where she would have to tell her partner that she was pregnant with their baby, it would have to happen at some point: and better it take place after 14 weeks- when the risk of miscarriage drops and the possibility of the difficult talk being all for nothing was much less. 10 more weeks. Until then, she'd have to keep it a secret…

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry about the shortness of the chapter, but I wanted to end it on a cliffhanger-ish thing like that.**

 **I'm working on some Avengers FrostIron fluff, so if anyone has any prompts they'd like to see written, PM me.**

 **Thank you to everyone that has favourited, followed, reviewed and read.**

 **See you next time xxxxxxxxx**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: OMG! Are you proud of me? I actually made an upload deadline, with time to spare! Since the last chapter was quite short, this one's a bit longer than usual. You lucky things! On time, and extra long! ;)**

 **Anyway, I'm going on hiatus with this story while the new series is on, so I can write new chapters at once, and maybe keep to a more regular upload schedule once I'm back. Don't worry, I'm not abandoning it! I'll be back in a couple of months.**

 **Disclaimer: If I owned Elementary, there'd be a lot more fluff and romance, so obviously I don't ;)**

 **If you review, I'll be your best frieeeeeend!**

* * *

The next ten weeks would be rather challenging and nerve-wracking for Joan. After she'd taken the test, she went to the doctor, just to be sure; even though she _knew_ that she was definitely pregnant.

Of course, just as she was expecting, the blood test confirmed what she thought: in eight and a half months' time, she'd be a mom. Thinking of that made her feel both exceptionally excited, and incredibly nervous. What if her child just didn't like her, or if he or she was endangered because of their mother's job?

What worried her most, however, was what Sherlock's reaction would be when she finally told him. She would have to eventually. It's not like she could keep such a thing a secret!

The consulting detective's response to such life-changing news would no doubt be negative. To be perfectly honest, Joan had no idea how he'd react. There was surely no way he'd be happy with a baby on the way. As close as they were, he'd never once mentioned a desire for a family someday. Though, perhaps this was what he wanted, and he had just never revealed it? Perhaps the great Sherlock Holmes, emotionless detective, egotistical know-it-all and all-round annoying git did actually have dreams of love, marriage, and children? No. That wasn't him. There's no way in hell he'd wish for those things, and there's no way he'd be pleased with the bombshell she would drop on him in two and a half months.

Nevertheless, she was determined to inform him of their unborn child as soon as she reached fourteen weeks. He deserved to know, of course; though she dreaded telling him. But until then, she'd have to try her best to hide it from him. To begin with, it wouldn't be too difficult. After all, they were avoiding each other anyway- which made it a million times easier- and all she really had to do was conceal her morning sickness, which she could manage. However, as she got further through her pregnancy, her baby bump would become more and more difficult to hide. She made a mental note to go shopping for flowy tops and big cardigans to help obscure her growing belly.

As Joan lay there, in bed, thinking about everything that was to come in her pregnancy, her mind began to wander to what her child would be like. She wondered which parts of her and Sherlock he or she would have. She'd like to think they'd have Sherlock's eyes (she'd always loved his eyes), as well as his extraordinary intelligence. Joan smiled to herself, playing out different scenarios in her head: of bringing her little bundle of joy home from the hospital, rocking them to sleep, holding them in her arms and just looking down in awe at how beautiful they were.

Whether Sherlock reciprocated her feelings of joy and anticipation or not, Joan was truly looking forward to being a mom.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Weeks passed, and Joan had been hiding her pregnancy well, save a few close calls with the morning sickness. On a few occasions, she'd had to run to the bathroom to throw up while with Sherlock, or at the station, but she excused it by saying she wasn't feeling too good and that she must have food poisoning or something.

Unfortunately, an unexpected difficulty she hadn't foreseen was her heightened senses, and how they'd affect her work. Obviously, her chosen career had more than its fair share of unpleasant odours from decaying bodies, or other gory crime-scene things, so Joan had opted only to take non-murder cases from her private clients, and to stay away from the crime scenes when her and Sherlock worked cases for the NYPD, just in case a particular smell triggered her nausea.

So far, at eleven weeks, no-one had discovered that she was with child, although Captain Gregson had been giving her some odd looks of late. Nonetheless, her strategy was working out well, and it was lucky that her partner was steering clear of her, and not paying as much deductive attention to her as he usually would, otherwise Joan was sure he'd already have figured it out.

The closer she got to fourteen weeks, the more nervous she became about telling Sherlock. Every time she saw him, the former sober companion involuntarily visualised the conversation she was dreading. She saw him getting freaked out and leaving; or being too shocked for words and just staring at her in alarm; or becoming angry and panicked and relapsing again.

In spite of these premonitions, Joan always sculpted her features into a calm, composed mask when she was around her partner, and made sure to hide her worry and uneasiness, lest he catch on to her secret.

As her baby bump increased in size, she'd taken to wearing long, billowy clothes, and making sure to keep her abdomen hidden. Joan found she quite liked her new style and thought she'd maybe start wearing more oversized items after she'd had the baby. Furthermore, she found that- despite the annoying things, like morning sickness and headaches- she really quite enjoying being pregnant; never being alone, having someone to talk to as she fell asleep, even if that someone couldn't understand her yet.

Xxxxxxxxxx

With the end of her first trimester nearing, Joan started to be more careful on cases, and often volunteered to do the paperwork, or scour through documents, rather than go out in the field as much.

One morning, as she was stood in the middle of the precinct, talking to Detective Bell, Joan was suddenly hit with a wave of dizziness, and she grabbed hold of a nearby desk for support. Bell rushed towards her and asked if she was okay.

She blinked a few times, stood up straight and took a deep breath, before replying, "It's fine… I'm fine. Just felt a bit dizzy for a second. I'm okay now." She gave him a weak smile to try to reassure him that she was indeed fine. The detective nodded apprehensively and continued what he was saying as they resumed their conversation.

Less than a minute later, she felt the dizziness again. This time it was more powerful. She brought her hand to her head, swaying slightly, before completely falling to the ground. Her last thoughts before slipping into unconsciousness were of worry for her baby. Then, darkness…

* * *

 **A/N: MASSIVE thank you to everyone who's read, followed, favourited and reviewed! You guys make my day when I see people have enjoyed what I've written! I love you all and I'll see you in autumnish time xxxxxxxxxx**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: And after a ridiculous period of waiting, very poor time management skills, and terrible procrastination... it's finally here! It's quite long in an attempt to make up for the wait but I'm still very sorry! I promise I'm not abandoning it; I just can't keep to a writing schedule. I'm thinking of doing at least a couple more chapters, and I'll try my very very best to get them out in good time, but I can't make any promises because, you know, me.**

 **Disclaimer: You know the drill.**

 **Please review; it makes me feel so good to see what you think, even if it's just a "cool"!**

* * *

" _She'll be fine. It's an occasional side-effect in the second trimester."_

Joan squinted at the bright, clinical light that blared down on her. Her head throbbed and tendrils of dread laced themselves tightly in the pit of her stomach. Like a bear being shaken awake from deep hibernation, her conscious mind caught up with her surroundings. From what she could gather, she was in a hospital bed, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor ringing in her ears. Gradually, her memories flooded back; the last she could remember, she was at the precinct… and her head was feeling heavier… and heavier… and her vision blurred and… oh god, she passed out; probably scared the hell out of Marcus. After a second spent inwardly cursing her weakness, the speech that she'd just heard finally properly registered in her mind.

 _They had mentioned her pregnancy,_ she thought to herself, _of course, that's what caused it._ Although she was never an OBGYN, she knew the basics of some pregnancy complications, such as the dizziness in the second trimester that she was experiencing, from the uterus putting pressure on her blood vessels. A moment after coming to this conclusion, an alarming thought occurred to her: _who was the doctor talking to?_

"Thank you, doctor. I'll wait here for her to wake up." She'd recognise that voice anywhere. nonoNoNoNoNO!

The doctor left Sherlock alone with her and she fought against her urge to hide away and let the ground swallow her up, opening her eyes to face him.

"Hey," she croaked, her voice hoarse and strained.

He merely nodded in response, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, before restlessly getting to his feet and pacing beside her bed.

"Sherlock, I can explain. I was going to tell you, I promise I-"

"Is it mine?" he interrupted, ceasing his striding and softening his features in an attempt to be comforting.

Joan pressed her eyes shut once more and whispered a reluctant "yes" so quietly the consulting detective could barely hear.

"Okay. Okay. Okay," Sherlock repeated, trying to process the information without completely freaking out. "Why didn't you tell me when you first found out? The doctors said you're 14 weeks along; you must have known for some time."

Joan sat up feebly, her head protesting vehemently at the movement, and struggled to find the right words. "I wanted to get past the riskiest part before telling you just in case I miscarried, so to save you unnecessary… uhh… worry? Inconvenient thought?"

Sherlock knelt by her bedside and tentatively laid his hand on hers. "Watson… Joan," he corrected, deciding to stop the unnecessary formalities that distanced them. "This is not an inconvenience, far from it. By the fact that you've gotten this far I assume you're planning to keep it." She nodded. "How do you… feel… about it; everything?"

Joan took a deep breath to collect her thoughts before replying. "Honestly? Ecstatic. Nervous and terrified as well, but mostly excited. To meet them. To be a mother. I was starting to think I'd never get the chance. I understand if you don't want to be involved, but I'm glad you know now. You deserved to know. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

Sherlock stood, exhaling slowly. He stepped back, his expression unreadable and his demeanour anxious at best; angry at worst.

"I think I just… need some time."

With that, he turned on his heel and left, leaving Joan alone and worrying her lower lip. Hopefully, he won't do anything too drastic.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Joan was kept in hospital for observation for a few more hours before being discharged and driven back to the Brownstone by Marcus. She had been turning her interaction with Sherlock over and over again in her mind for the last 4 hours and was just about ready to pull out her hair in frustration at her overthinking. As per usual, the genius had been rather difficult to read and she wasn't sure how he felt about the news.

As the car pulled up beside the house, Joan sighed and thanked Marcus for the ride.

"If you need anything, I'm here and I hope you feel better soon and get back to babysitting Sherlock; I don't know how long I'll be able to manage him."

Joan smiled in response and said a quick goodbye while getting out of the car. The hospital had informed her that no-one other than Sherlock knew about her pregnancy (as he was her emergency contact and healthcare proxy). She had been told to relax and stay off work for at least a week; returning to only non-stressful work until she gives birth.

Determinedly, with clenched fists and head held high, she marched up the stairs confidently, yet with a slight anxious tentativeness in her step. As soon as she walked through the door, she knew something was different. The Brownstone didn't seem so… dangerous? Sherlock-ish? Panic gripped her chest as her first thought was that her partner has left again. However, as she turned the corner into the living room, her mind was settled, if not a little perplexed. Although previously filled with countless items that most "normal" people would consider to be hazardous, it was now cleared of anything remotely unsafe and restocked with some of the more conventional things from the basement- such as books and files- with some empty shelf space left over. More surprisingly, though, was that every sharp corner or cabinet door had been covered over and childproofed. Joan was taken aback for a moment. Surely Sherlock hadn't gone to all of this trouble.

She laid her back down on the sofa and went downstairs to the kitchen to see if this trend carried on to the other rooms. Again, every cupboard was childproofed and every precarious item gotten rid of or moved.

"It's not yet completed but it's a start. I know it might be a little early to go to such measures, but I wanted to get started before you arrived back."

The familiar voice from the doorway startled her. Confused with the whole situation, she turned around to face her roommate.

"Sherlock I-"

"I've thought over everything and I'm sorry I reacted badly. It took me some time to fully process things but I've come to a conclusion."

"Which is?" She walked slowly towards him, head tilted sideways in curious anticipation.

A small smile flittered across Sherlock's face. "That I don't so much mind the idea of a little one. Someone with whom to share my knowledge and wisdom. A blank slate of a person to start out on hopefully a good path in life. Although I didn't have a good experience with my father, I hope that I can be there for this child where he wasn't for me. However, since our work is extremely dangerous, I shall be taking new steps to protect you and the baby. As you can see already, I've begun to get rid of anything dangerous I had lying around, and such experiments will be continued either in the basement behind a locked door, or on the roof. As for the job itself, I've started to make further protection arrangements with my contacts, and with that organised we should be in no more danger than a regular police officer; if one who's a little reckless from time to time.

"Truly, I am thrilled, if also extremely terrified, about this baby. I promise to be there for you, and the child, forever, and protect you both for as long as I live."

By this point, tears were welling up in Joan's eyes, a few of them spilling out onto her cheeks, as she beamed in joyful relief at his words. In blissful elation, she pulled him into a tight hug, which he reciprocated after a few seconds of stunned stillness.

"Thank you," she said, pulling away after what seemed like hours. "I was so scared at how you'd take it, but knowing you're okay with this takes such a weight off my mind."

They both smiled contentedly and she nestled in his embrace once more.

* * *

 **A/N: Cheesy ending to the chapter, I know, but I just couldn't resist. Like I said before, there'll be another chapter sometime this millennium so see you then!**

 **I see you shiver with antici-**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: -pation!**

 **I can only apologise for the horrendously long wait, but here it is ;)**

 **If you didn't already know, I've edited and reposted chapter 8; I just fixed a few errors and added a few words.**

 **Thank you so much for bearing with me and I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Elementary, I don't profit off of this at all.**

 **Please Follow, Favourite and Review, and thank you to those of you that do.**

* * *

The next few days went smoothly enough, if a little awkwardly. Nowhere near as awkwardly as after The Night, yet still their routine was a little stilted and out of sync. Sherlock was working a rather mundane case, while Joan looked over some cold case files to keep her restless mind occupied. He cared for her as best he could, as he wasn't used to doing something so out of character, and she resisted the suggestion that she was incapable of taking care of herself just because she was pregnant.

All in all, it seemed like their steady friendship was slowly returning, if with a new attachment. That is, until the second to last day of her bedrest…

Xxxxxxxxxx

Sherlock's case was finished with and he had resumed childproofing the house, turning his attention now to the various potentially dangerous technologies that were littered around the Brownstone. It wasn't until around 11 o'clock that Joan came downstairs, and by then, most of the main level had been dealt with.

As soon as she came into the kitchen, she knew Sherlock wanted to say something important. It had become a sixth sense of hers over their time together; although he most certainly didn't exhibit normal symptoms of anticipation to speak, Joan had gained an intimate knowledge of when his neuroticism actually indicated a mind churning over something important. This was one of those times, but she could tell this particular topic was one that he didn't predict would go smoothly.

"Joan! I have a matter I wish to discuss with you," he motioned for her to sit at the table, his oft-donned animated tone unusually strained, like it was taking extra energy to keep it up. "Your doctor-instructed bedrest is soon coming to its conclusion, so I felt this was the appropriate time to broach this subject…" he trailed off, avoiding his typical intense eye-contact.

"What is it?"

He took a moment before answering, all in one breath, "I think it would be in the best interest of you and the baby for you to remain off of any casework pre-birth, and then for at least 6 months post-"

"No, we've talked about this. I'm not some invalid to be taken care of, and I don't need to be babied. I'm perfectly capable of continuing work before my delivery. I'm not objecting to the maternity leave afterwards, but until then, I don't want to be excluded completely!"

"I thought you might object," he pulled out his phone. "I will increase your pay by 40% in exchange for your cooperation."

Joan's expression showed her response clearer than what she could put into words. "Are you insane? So now you're trying to bribe me? Who do you think I am?!"

"I am merely trying to think of your safety and the baby's, now please don't fight this."

"Alright, I realise you're scared after what happened, but I know how to manage that now, and may I remind you, that wasn't even when I was working on a case. I'm not saying I'm going to do quite as much as normal, but I refuse to be left out of everything."

"The work we do is dangerous, Watson, you know that as well as anyone, and what if you did faint while on a case? What if I wasn't there and you got hurt?" His voice cracked a little on the last sentence and it almost made Joan change her mind. He obviously cared very deeply for her and this baby already, but she couldn't let herself be treated like a child.

"I'm not made of glass, Sherlock, and I sure as hell don't take orders from you. In 2 days, I'll be back to work, and I don't care whether you like it or not, I'll be on cases like always. Yes, I'll make sure to avoid the strenuous and dangerous parts of the job, but I'm not leaving it altogether!"

"Fine! If you won't take my proposal willingly, then I'll take it above your head!"

With that, he stood and walked out, leaving Joan sizzling with fury. She heard the front door open and close, before getting up to pour herself some tea. He'd have to relent at some point. There wasn't really anything he could do. By "taking it above her head" she assumed he meant going to the captain, but that would just be a weak attempt to keep her restrained; the captain wouldn't take his side, and even if he did, she had her own private clients with cases to keep her occupied.

Sherlock's worry wouldn't stop her from living her life.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Red smoke clouded his vision as he left the Brownstone. Why couldn't she just see that his efforts to protect her should be appreciated? He was only trying to look out for her and the baby. That's what responsible fathers did, wasn't it- look out for the mother and baby? Hell, what did he know about responsible fathers? It's not like he has a good example to follow. Still, the job was dangerous and Joan needed to be protected, he knew that much.

Sherlock didn't know where he was going exactly; he just started walking vaguely in the direction of downtown. His threat to take it above her head wasn't completely empty, but he had little faith that the captain would demand her suspended from casework without her assent, and it didn't feel right to tell him about Joan's pregnancy on her unwitting behalf.

Due to his mind's profound occupation, Sherlock failed to notice that which he otherwise would: that he was being followed.

The same black-clad man had been tailing him since he left his home, accomplices waiting for the right moment to strike. Sherlock's wanderings took him down a dim alley on a short cut to the precinct, and no sooner had he entered the cut-through, than heavily tattooed brutes came up behind. Like a deer in headlights, he turned to face the attackers, caught off-guard, as was suggested by his inattentive distraction, and got in only a delayed swing at one of them, before he was tackled, chloroformed, and hauled away…

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the cliff-hanger ending! ;)**

 **The next chapter won't take nearly as long, I promise, and I mean it this time :)**

 **Until then, tata my lovely readers! Let me know what you thought of the new chapter in the reviews!**


End file.
